Let me just say this real quick before my eyelids fully give up on this day and slide down my face like melted mascara: I am tired. Capital T. Italics. Possibly in another font entirely.

I woke up today with a long to-do list and the resolve of a caffeinated warrior. “I’m in it to win it,” I declared to no one in particular as I tied my metaphorical boots and faced the battlefield of another Monday.

But let me ask this:
Win what, exactly?
An inbox that keeps regenerating like a Marvel villain? A calendar that gaslights me with back-to-back meetings labeled “quick check-in” that somehow take 47 minutes? Am I winning a prize, or just the right to do it all again tomorrow?

Because right now, all I’ve won is some shoulder tension, a half-eaten granola bar, and the creeping suspicion that I forgot to reply to an email from last Tuesday.

My plate is full. Overflowing. Actually, it’s no longer a plate. It’s a buffet tray at an all-you-can-eat life stress diner. I am balancing a million things and probably still dropped three. One is rolling under the fridge as we speak.

But here’s the thing: I showed up. I gave it my mostly-best. I wrestled the day, and even if the day won.  I wore cute earrings while losing. That counts for something in my book.

Also: fun fact to celebrate this manic Monday?  Monday is the only day of the week that’s an anagram for “dynamo.”
Coincidence? Probably. But let’s pretend it’s a cosmic reminder that deep inside this walking pile of exhaustion, there’s a tiny dynamo spinning. Sleepy, yes. Spinning? Still.

So cheers to showing up, even when you’re a little unhinged and slightly feral. Cheers to emails that will be answered tomorrow. And cheers to whoever invented concealer, caffeine, and elastic waistbands.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to collapse into my pillows and dream of a world where Tuesdays are optional and to-do lists self-destruct.